DTF
by So Devious
Summary: "Why are you doing this?" "I'm doing this...because I want you." A muggle game gets our boys into a comprimising situation. Slash, lemon, PWP.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: This will be a one shot with a possible sequel (I know, that's what I said about Beads and Lace, and here we are almost three years later -_-). I simply don't have the time or focus to do a multi-chapter fic right now. I'm doing good just to get this started ^.^;

DTF

By

So Devious

The game made Draco sick. Not only was it obscenely muggle, it was just plain vulgar. A friend throwing out a name of someone, didn't matter who: a friend, an enemy, a random passer-by, and the victim of such stupidity had to declare whether or not he or she were..."down to fuck". Of course, professors would have a heart attack if they heard they're students using such profanity, so it was narrowed down to its initials: DTF.

"So...what about Finnegan." Blaise asked, leaning in close so that only the two of them could hear. What could he say? It may be stupid, but some the stupidest things were actually the most fun. If nothing else, it made those slow-ass lectures a little more bearable.

Draco put a thoughtful hand to his chin. The Gryffindor wasn't bad: kinda funny, and not hard to look at, if you were into that kinda thing..only thing Draco could imagine being wrong with him would be...

"Nah, I think he'd be too soft in bed."

"The hell? Too soft?" Blaise laughed, and Draco couldn't help but laugh too.

"Yeah, you know. One of those pillow princesses who just wants to kiss and cuddle and let the other do all the work."

"Alright, fair enough. What about...Thomas?" The blond eyed the dark skinned Gryffindor. He was even better than the Irish nymph, a definitely more macho.

"Meh, I'd try it. He'd be good for a one-off..." Draco paused, turning his attention to Blaise. "Besides, I want to know if its true what they say about black guys." he smirked.

"Mmm, if that's all, I can go show you right now." The Italian leered as he leaned in close to his best friend, who scoffed and pushed him away.

"You wish, Zabini." Draco laughed. "What about you? What about...Weasley?"

"Blah. It'd be like fucking one big freckle." He blanched. "Alright, a tough one..." Blaise scanned the room. "What about...Potter?"

That was an interesting suggestion, or so Draco thought. Truth be told, he could see Potter as sort of a guilty pleasure.

Ever since the end of the war, after all the hype surrounding his name died down, the Boy-Who-Lived seemed to collect a dark aura around him, and many rumored him to be a little...off (which Draco took as a polite way of saying "fucking crazy"). His fuse was shorter, his patience almost non-existent when it came to those who once praised him, but now only left him be until they needed something. Even the Weasley bint seemed to only come around when she was horny, if her hiked-up skirt and whore-ish make-up was anything to go on.

Truth be told, it was rather Slytherin of Potter, to keep around these fake smiling faces, even though he clearly knew they didn't really want him for anything except his fame. Really now, who was playing who?

"Mmm...definitely." The former Death Eater licked his lips just imagining it. Surely some of that madness had to seep into the bedroom, and that was just how Draco liked it.

"Really? I thought you hated him..."Blaise seemed genuinely surprised, his cocoa eyes widening in shock.

"Blaise, if I hated him, he'd be Voldie food, don't you think?" the blond eyed the hero hungrily, watching as he and his little cluster of fake friends rose from their seats and exited the Great Hall, the little redheaded hooker latched onto his side. "Besides," Draco continued, as the Great Hall doors eased shut. "I think I can fix him."

* * *

A nasty habit Harry had gotten into after the war was smoking herbs. Many of the common plants used in Herbology created a euphoric state when smoked that had Harry hooked with his first hit. It was as though, with one puff, all the stress of his fake friends lifted from his shoulders and melted away, and he completely forgot the reality around him.

It was the perfect place to do it too: under one of the many willows that lined the lake on the grounds. It seemed risky, and perhaps that was a part of the thrill, but the herbs were completely legal; there was nothing the professors could do short of take points and maybe detention.

"So...DTF." Seamus declared, and the rest of the little circle erupted in titters and giggles.

Harry wasn't sure when or why it became so popular, probably because it revolved around sex. But it wasn't as if the person you were "down" with would ever find out, which made the point of even playing completely moot. Ignoring his friends, Harry pressed the soapstone pipe to his lips, inhaling the Wild Dagga and enjoying the vibrations that poured from his brain and into his flesh. The more drags he took, the more he could feel the effects of the herb taking over his conscience.

"What about you, Harry? Who are you down with?" Lord, these dimwits couldn't even play it right.

"Aren't you supposed to give me a name?" Harry's speech was slurring, and Seamus laughed jovially, obviously high as a kite as well as the Irishman took a generous drag. Strange, Harry didn't remember passing the pipe.

"Oh...right. Um...Ginny."

"Seamus, you suck at this game." Before Seamus could protest, a large shadow materialized over the group, almost instantly killing any buzz they might have had.

"What the bloody hell do you two want?" Ron drawled, trying to focus on the two purebloods looming over them

* * *

They all looked ridiculous: all huddled together, wreaking of drugs and rambunctiousness. Of course, none of them mattered. Draco zeroed in on the hero himself, a rosy red drowning out the whites of his eyes, oddly clashing with the emerald green. It almost made them pop, the blond noticed.

"Well, Weasley, it seems we're doing one of two things," Blaise smirked as he squeezed in between Harry and Ginny, effectively prying her claws out of the poor boy. "We're either crashing this little party of yours, or we're reporting you to the professors for filching Professor Sprout's good Dagga leaves."

No wonder Draco loved Blaise so much. He was almost as diabolical as the young Malfoy himself, and while the rival houses were more civil to one another since the end of the war, it would be irrational to think that nearly a decade of taunting, teasing, and torment from both parties could simply evaporate in the span of a few months.

The blond decided to occupy the space between Seamus and Dean, who seemed the least hostile (probably the most high) of the cluster. "Oi, pass that." He demanded as he got comfortable. Seamus obeyed, albeit grudgingly, handing the pipe over to Draco, who took a generous hit. His head was instantly buzzing, and he could feel his mouth pulling into an involuntary grin. He also felt the _other_ side effect of the narcotic.

He shot a longing glance to Blaise, who seemed to have a knack for catching his lust-filled gaze. It never heralded much, except for a hot and heavy make-out session, but, as far as the Italian was concerned, it was better than nothing.

"So, you kids playing DTF?" Blaise asked, after licking hips lips at his best friend. "Whose turn?"

"Harry's. Seamus asked if he wanted Ginny." Dean providing, his inebriated state causing him to lean on Draco's shoulder a little.

"He better want me." The baby Weasley mumbled as Blaise laughed.

"Oh, yes, Potter, we're dying to know if you're down to fuck the girl you're already fucking!" Blaise whooped as he took the pipe from Ginny's hand, taking his turn in the rotation.

"Oi, what about you, Malfoy? What about...Parkinson?" Ron laughed, and Draco blanched. He was feeling too good, he didn't want to think about that psychopath right now. It must be genetically predisposed in the Weasley family to be a buzz kill.

"Don't insult me Weasley. Even if I were attracted to women, I think I could do better than the Pug Princess." Draco laughed, although he wasn't too sure why. His current turn at the Dagga had wiped his brain near clean except for random bursts of thought that didn't last long. He did, somehow, notice that Seamus had inched a little closer to him after the admission of his sexuality.

"Really? Malfoy junior, a pouf? Who would have thought?" The Irishman chuckled in Draco's ear, his voice thick like velvet. It almost made Draco want the boy to take him there and then. _Almost._

The blond ran a thumb over Seamus' cheek, smiling down at him as the other rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Sorry, love," Draco cooed, pseudo-lovingly, "Not interested."

Seamus reeled backward, pouting as the others laughed.

Harry couldn't believe it, honestly. Not only two Slytherin, but THE two Slytherin had infiltrated their little circle and were just relaxing and hanging out like they did this all the time. There were no serious altercations, just playful banter and laughter and happiness. It almost made him wish the effects of the herb were permanent.

That's when he noticed Seamus sexually harassing Draco. They were so close, their noses were almost touching, Seamus resting his head on Draco's should like some kind of stupid, adorable, Irish parrot. Something twisted in Harry's gut as the blond traced his thumb down the Irishman's cheek, but it swiftly went away as Draco buffed his advances with a very Malfoy-like response.

If Harry was honest, Draco was actually kind of attractive. Well, 'kinda of attractive' was like saying the Atlantic was 'kind of wet'. That silvery blond hair had reached past his shoulders sometime over the summer, and he kept it loosely tied in a black satin ribbon. He had even had a habit of twirling the end of his ponytail when he was feeling nervous of flirtatious.

"He likes to have his hair pulled, you know." Blaise murmured, scaring Harry half to death. Not only was he not expecting the Italian to be so close to his person, but the information in itself surprised him.

"How do you know?" Harry replied, careful to not gain the attention of the others, who seemed to forget all about the game and poke fun at Seamus' expense.

"I know because I've done it. A friendly snog between friends, you know." Harry blushed. That was way too much info, but he couldn't help but be curious to know if the two had done more than snog. "I always wondered what the rest of him tasted like, but we're aren't quite _that_ friendly, you know?"

The Boy-Who-Lived tried his damnedest to ignore the little black devil harping in his ear, but the images that came flooding to him in his high were just too delicious to ignore.

"Just running my fingers through that hair make it worth it, though. And don't get me started on those lips..." Blaise licked his lips at the blond in question, who seemed to smirk at both of them, eying them as though they were some kind of delectable package deal. "He's got...good DSL, if you catch my drift."

"No, I don't. DTF, DSL? What happened to just speaking English?" Harry countered. He had never even heard the term before, but, judging by Blaise's smirk, it wasn't going to help his current...situation.

"DSL is a code of sorts for Dick Sucking Lips." Harry's cheeks flared and electricity shot straight to his groin. But before he could respond, the Italian rose and started to speak openly once again. "Oi, Harry. Ever shotgun a hit?" The emerald-eyed teen merely shook his head, afraid his voice would betray him. "Draco, shotgun him. Don't worry, mate, Drake's brilliant at it. Gives a good rush."

Draco smirked an rose to his knees, taking the soapstone pipe from Ron. Ginny looked on warily, but didn't respond to the sight unfolding.

The blond took in another deep huff of smoke, holding it in as he leaned in so close to Harry, their lips nearly touched.

"Open your mouth, Potter, or it won't work." Blaise ordered, and Harry complied without even thinking. He angled his head slightly to give Draco better access as he exhaled the smoke into the brunet's awaiting mouth, who inhaled it greedily. "Now hold it."

As soon as the words escaped Blaise's mouth, Draco pressed his lips against Harry's. Neither man moved, and the smoke mingled between the two of them, the active chemicals as well as the fleeting oxygen gave Harry's head a rush, just as Blaise had promised. The Dagga seemed to take over at this point, because the next thing Harry knew, he was slowly easing his tongue into the blond's mouth, tasting him around the smoke. His hand seemed to reach up of its on accord, grasping the silken ponytail and gently pulling Draco's head back, releasing the smoke into the spring air.

The blond sat back in his original space, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"Me next!" Seamus chirped, earning a collective laugh from the others.

"Didn't I tell you? Just imagine those lips around your cock." Blaise chuckled, and Harry turned to glare at him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm just helping a friend. Nothing wrong with that." He smirked, and Harry suspected he had another scheme in mind. "Oi, Potter," He stated, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "Why don't you and Draco go get something to snack on. I'm starting to get the munchies." The cluster agreed, Draco included. The blond was already shakily rising to his feet, and Harry could tell he was too toasted to go in by himself. Being ever the hero, he rose as well, steadying the blond before heading back towards the castle.

* * *

Harry was too cute, Draco had decided, what with his chivalry and whatnot. Draco could hardly be considered a Slytherin if he didn't take advantage of it. Many times during their walk to the castle, Draco pretended to stumble, the strong arms of the Gryffindor clasping around him before he fell to the ground. I was actually a little juvenile, the blond thought, and something he'd expect that little red-haired whore to pull, but his mind was still delightfully foggy, and he simply couldn't bring himself to care right now.

For Harry, however, it was so simple. He felt empty every time the blond left his arms, giggling an apology or another, and he inwardly hoped Draco would stumble again, just so he could hole onto him a second longer.

"Finally, I thought we'd never make it. What sounds good?" the blonde asked, ignoring the bustling house elves and eying all the treats they had set out for the upcoming meal.

_You_., was Harry's instinctive response, which he successfully quelled.

"Um...I'm thinking something sweet?" He managed to reply. He watched the blond closely, with an almost predatory gaze.

"Hmm, not for me. I'm thinking something a little more...filling. I'm craving _meat_, I think." Draco shot a sidelong glance at the Gryffindor, feeling satisfactory at the bright blush that assaulted his cheeks. With a small smirk, the blond reached up and tugged at the satin ribbon, letting his silvery locks flow free before haphazardly running his hand through it. He wasn't sure what it was about his hair, to be honest, but every man he'd had some sort of tryst with seemed enamored by it, and he could bet a knut to a doughnut that Harry was no different. "Mmm, I'm sorry. It's awful stuffy in here, do you mind holding my robes?" he asked sweetly, removing his school robes and handing them to Harry, revealing the tight black v-neck and pewter gray trousers underneath. He could practically hear the other boy's breath quickening.

It was crazy how beautiful Malfoy was. He could give any real female, namely Ginny, a run for their money. Something about that long blond hair and those pouty lips, mingled with those sharp, aristocratic features reminded Harry of those 50's Hollywood starlets Hermione had shown him pictures of. Not to mention, the older boy had a stare that could make you want to cum just by looking into it.

Draco bent over one of the counters to talk to one of the elves, probably trying to charm it into giving them something without spilling to the professors, but Harry couldn't focus on what was being said. He was too busy staring at that pert little ass, and the next thing he knew, Draco was shoving a box in his face.

"Stop thinking about sex for one second, Golden Boy, and take this. The house elves gave us some snacks." The blond snickered, shoving the box into Harry's hands and taking back his robes. Without another word, Draco sauntered out of the kitchens, his hips swaying a little as he walked.

"So, Potter. We never finished the game...what about...me?" The blond questioned, his quicksilver stare pierced Harry right through.

"What about you?" The Golden Boy replied, stopping dead as the blond stepped in front of him.

"Are you...down?" It was at that point that Harry lost his resolve. Without another thought, he grabbed Draco's arm and drug him into a darken alcove nearby, dropping this box of treats to the floor before pinning the blond against the wall.

"Why are you doing this?"

This was the Harry Draco wanted to see. He couldn't tell if the brunet was still high, but that rumored madness began to seep out. Harry's grip was bruising on his hips, and he nearly snarled with every word he spoke. A fire roared inside Draco, and he brought his hands up to unclasp the pesky Gryffindor robes and caress the taut muscle underneath. It was no secret that Harry was well-toned after all the years of Quidditch, but after all of the physical labor of battle, Harry was just plain buff. Draco released a breath as Harry shivered beneath his fingertips.

"I'm doing this...because I want you." It was barely above a whisper, but it was all Harry needed. He crushed their lips together in a rough, harsh kiss, his fingers plunging into those thick blond locks. He tugged gently, and drank in the delicious moan that spilled from those plush lips. Harry tugged the shorter man back by his hair before assaulting his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

"Oh, Gods, Harry..." Draco moaned, trying to bring his body closer to the Gryffindor's. He felt like he was on fire, and Harry's touch was the only thing that could douse it. He needed that boy against him, in him, around him, and he was prepared to claw through his clothing to get what he wanted if he needed to.

Harry had similar ideas, hoisting the black t-shirt up above Draco's head and letting it fall to the floor as he nipped at those dusky pink nubs, reveling in the blond's keening and moaning.

"Harry, please. I need to taste you..."Draco whimpered, tugging at Harry's belt. Before the brunet could think about what was happening, Draco's hot, wet mouth engulfed him, nearly sending him teetering over the brink. Almost on instinct, Harry gripped Draco's hair before shoving his length further into his mouth.

"Fuck yes, Malfoy. Just like that." The blond nearly gagged, but continued to swallow him whole, deep-throating his cock almost to the hilt. Harry could feel himself getting close, but he wasn't ready for it to be over yet. "Stand up." He growled, pulling Draco up by the hair and turning him so that he was facing the wall. He whispered a quick lubrication charm that he'd picked up while experimenting with Ginny, before shoving his aching length into Draco's ass.

Despite the small amount of pain, Draco was nearly delirious with pleasure, Harry stretching and filling him until he thought he'd burst. The brunet nipped at Draco's ears, whispering harshly how much he'd wanted this.

"Gods, I've been thinking about this since sixth year. You're so fucking tight, Malfoy." Harry groaned, pounding into him, hard and deep, with a steady rhythm.

Even through the lust-filled haze, Draco smirked. "Even tighter than that bint, Weasley?"

"Fuck yes." Harry thrust harder, brushing Draco's prostate. The blond whined and cried out, bucking his hips.

"Oh, Gods, Harry! Fuck, right there!" The brunet continued to plow into him, pounding that bundle of nerves over and over until Draco could barely see straight. Merlin, he was so close.

Harry yanked his head to the side so they were somewhat face to face before smashing their lips together in a rough, wet kiss. The Gryffindor's hand trailed down Draco's lean body before gripping his weeping cock in his hand and pulling gently, the contrast in tempo throwing the blond off. It wasn't long before Draco's orgasm tore through him, hot and raw, and he spilled his seed against the wall, calling out Harry's name. His walls clenched and pulled Harry over the edge not long after, his seed coating Draco's inner walls.

* * *

"About time. What'd you bring?" Ron nearly dove for the box in Harry's hand. The boys had been amazed that the contents didn't spill during they're tryst, although grateful they didn't have to come back empty handed. The two sat next to one another in the circle, trying to catch up on the conversation they had interrupted.

"Draco," Harry whispered. The blond smiled at him, but there was nothing to smile about, as far as Harry was concerned. "I just wanted you to know...what happened...it won't be happening again."

Draco's face fell, and something in him kind of shattered. He felt stupid for admitting it, even to himself, but he had sincerely hoped that something would come from their little rendezvous.

"Didn't you like it?" he whispered back, his face hiding the hurt and confusion he was feeling.

"I did but...I just can't. I mean...there's Ginny and-" Frankly, Draco had heard enough. That last thing he needed was knowing that he lost to a Weasley – _again_. He faintly heard the other Gryffindors immerse in another game of DTF.

"Blaise. C'mon. We're leaving." Without waiting for a response, Draco rose to his feet and strode to the castle.

That game made him fucking sick.

A/N: I'm pretty sure I suck at lemons. Shitty ending, I know. But I'm hoping to go somewhere with this at a later date. For now, I'm going back to bed -.-zzz


End file.
